


An Interim Conversation

by rei_c



Series: Stiles Stilinski: Vongola Sky [11]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conversations, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Sky Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: The morning after Stiles and Peter harmonise, Erica asks Peter some questions.





	An Interim Conversation

Stiles slips out of the bedroom and Erica opens her eyes, listens as she stares at the ceiling. She hears Peter stand up in the living room, hears Stiles tell him not to be an idiot and to go back to bed, that he needs more rest, needs to finish healing, hears Peter tell Stiles to stop dawdling and find a sun, hears Stiles leave their suite and close the door behind him. 

Erica gets up, grabs her bathrobe from where it's hanging on the back of the door, and puts it on as she goes out to the living room. Peter's sitting on the couch, eyes closed, head tilted back, and Erica looks him over, takes in the marks still healing on his face, his arms, lets her gaze rest on his neck, on the bite Stiles left there. 

"What is it, little _lupa_?" Peter asks, though he doesn't move, doesn't open his eyes. He sounds tired, looks it, too, and for him to listen to Stiles and stay in their suite when he's been going to breakfast with Stiles and the Ninth every day since he moved in with them -- it says a lot. 

"How close did he come to killing you?" Erica asks. She wanted to ask yesterday when Stiles brought Peter back to their suite, had to practically carry the 'wolf because Peter was in such bad shape, but by the time she'd gotten over her shock -- both at seeing Peter like that and at the feeling of Peter's bond to Stiles, twice as strong as hers and with as much power under it as Verde's -- Peter was unconscious and Stiles had that look on his face that meant he was too deep in thought to talk. 

Peter's lips quirk up in what might have been intended as a smile, but they fall back to neutral quickly, as if he doesn't have the energy to hold the expression. "One more punch," Peter says. "Or one word, I suppose. I haven't been that close to death since -- well. Since I actually died." 

Erica perches next to Peter, sits down carefully so as not to jostle him. She places one hand on Peter's arm, starts drawing off pain, watches as Peter's shoulders lose a line of tension and the skin around his eyes smoothes out. 

"He was wrong," Erica murmurs. "He was wrong to do it this way." 

"No," Peter says, soft even though he's firm in his disagreement. "This was the only way we'd be sure enough of each other to bond."

Erica shakes her head. "But _why_?" she asks. "Peter, why would -- he almost killed you. How did you know he wouldn't?" 

Peter opens his eyes, turns his head so that he can look at her, meet her gaze with his own. "I didn't," he says. "I think -- some part of me would have even accepted it. But we fought because my 'wolf needed to respect his strength and ruthlessness and I needed the -- I _demanded_ the reassurance that he wouldn't abandon me the way Laura did, the way Derek was doing, the way Scott never really knew he had a choice to but chose to anyway." 

"And what did Stiles get from it?" Erica asks, has to ask. She's -- god help her, she _likes_ Peter, likes his sense of humour and admires his ferocity and understands his protectiveness and need for pack, but she also knows that having him around is going to cause untold amounts of tension. 

And where does that leave her? Stiles is her sky but Derek is her alpha. Derek bit her, gave her freedom from her epilepsy and made her strong -- but Stiles _killed_ for her, activated his flame and murdered a dozen Argents and saved her at the cost of his own future. He's brought her to Italy and opened her eyes to her potential and he holds her when she has nightmares and listens to her when she talks and values her every touch like he knows that he's going to have to give her up -- and he's _willing to give her up_ if that's what she wants. 

"Me," Peter says, bringing Erica back to the present, to their conversation. "Stiles gets me. Every part of me, the truth of me, the whole of me, until I die." 

"Every part of you?" Erica asks. "Even your 'wolf? What about -- you'll need an alpha, Peter. Will you --" 

Peter cuts Erica off, laughing a little as he brushes her lips with his finger then reaches up, strokes the slowly-scarring mark on his throat. "Oh, darling girl," he says. "I have an alpha. What do you think this bite means?" 

Erica goes cold. Her hand slides off of Peter's arm; she has just enough breath to ask, "Wh -- _what_?" 

"You're going to have to make a decision," Peter tells her, with no little amount of sympathy. "You can't be both beta to Derek and guardian to Stiles." Peter shifts, biting back a wince, and leans his head back on the couch, closes his eyes. "We're going back in two weeks, Erica. I don't know how long Stiles will be content to stay in Beacon Hills; he's bargained for the school year but everything he is will be curtailed once we're back in the States. He can't be Vongola, there, and that's what he is now, that's _who_ he is. You're going to have to think fast, little _lupa_ , fast and hard, because I'll wager my claws on Stiles coming back here before All Hallows." 

Derek and Boyd and Beacon Hills and pack on one side, Stiles and Peter and Italy and flames on the other. Even her 'wolf is silent on the matter, apparently content to leave the decision to Erica. 

"Stiles didn't want to harmonise with me," Erica says, looking down at her hands. Her claws have come out. She's not sure when that happened. "He said he didn't want to take me away from Derek. He -- what are they? To each other, I mean." 

Peter hums, a thoughtful little noise. "In another life, I think Stiles would've been Derek's emissary. The two aren't romantically compatible -- maybe they would've been in another few years, when my nephew grows up a little, but -- no, I think Stiles would have been the perfect Hale emissary. Even before he activated his flame, he had enough of a spark to control mountain ash, probably could've stretched his abilities to runes and potions and a few lower-level spells, and he and Derek get along much better than Derek and Deaton ever could or ever will. I think -- under the bluster and the mistrust and the sore beginning we all had, I think they actually, genuinely understand each other. If Stiles wasn't a Vongola, if he had any other flame, I could see them finishing the emissary rites about the time Stiles is supposed to graduate high school. But now? Now they'll be nothing to each other but memories." 

Erica sits there, takes that in, mourns the dream of a future that won't ever come, now. "It would've been nice," she says. "It's -- it would've been perfect." 

"This could be," Peter points out. "It's your choice." 

"Yeah," Erica says. She has no idea what she's going to do.


End file.
